


All Shook Up

by centreoftheselights



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AO3 Fundraiser Auction, Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Awkward Conversations, Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/F, Falling In Love, First Meetings, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings, Musicians, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are in a rock band, Castiel is a violinist, Jo is a DJ and Anna plays the electric cello. They've all been asked to play at a charity concert with a twist, but Castiel is adamant that he cannot get more involved than his conductor permits.</p>
<p>Jo and Anna watch as he meets Dean, and begins to consider a different way of doing things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Shook Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragons_and_angels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragons_and_angels/gifts).



> Written for my AO3 Fundraiser Auction prompt:
> 
> "Destiel from Jo and Anna's POV. Awkward, silly flailing from Dean and Castiel with Jo and Anna sighing on the sidelines. Eventual Jo/Anna with Dean and Castiel being smug about knowing all along. Bonus points for awesome friendships all around and Dean and Sam's brotherly love."
> 
> I hope you like it!

Anna arrives nearly an hour early.

It’s not her usual style, but she only flew in last night from the end of her European tour. It may be early morning in New York, but her body still believes it’s lunchtime in London, and after three hours awake she was more than ready to get moving to her first appointment of the day.

The Elysium Concert Hall is a familiar sight to her, although they’ve refurbished since her last visit. In the foyer, the new expanse of plush blue carpeting is disturbed only by the few invitees who were committed or jetlagged enough to arrive before she did – among them, a familiar face.

“Castiel!” she calls out to him, and he turns.

“Anna,” he greets her with a nod, stiff and formal as always.

Anna decides to disregard formality in favour of throwing her arms around her younger brother. After a moment, Castiel reluctantly returns the gesture.

“How was your tour?” he asks into her hair, only slightly muffled.

“It was amazing!” she answers, finally releasing him in the hopes of sparing at least a little of his dignity. “There was this brilliant unscheduled stop in Amsterdam, and I met this great group in Vienna who you have to hear about – but how are you? Still playing second violin?”

“Yes,” Castiel says, “although I doubt I will remain so if the conductor catches me talking to you.”

It’s a tease, but Anna frowns anyway. “Cousin Michael seems to think having a solo career is a crime.”

“No, he’s just offended that anyone would turn down the chance to be section leader,” he brother observes. “And jealous that they’ve never found anyone good enough to replace you.”

Anna grins. “Flatterer. I hope the gentlemen appreciate those pretty lies more than I do.”

Castiel looks at her blankly, and she sighs.

“You remember, dating? You are allowed to have a life outside of the violin.”

His lip quirks upward. “Yes, but where am _I_ supposed to meet a man?”

 

Jo rushes into the foyer with about a minute to spare, only to be hurried on by a man with a black suit and an English accent.

“Get in there, would you? We’re supposed to be starting.”

She rushes into the auditorium, where the dozen or so rows closest to the stage are already occupied. In the back row are a couple of familiar heads, so she slips in behind them.

“So what’s this about?” she asks, leaning over the seats, and she’s pleased to see the Winchester brothers both start.

“Son of a –” Dean mutters. “Hey, Jo. Good to know there’s one person here who is not a total douchebag.”

“We know as much as you do,” Sam explains. “Charity event, be prepared to donate ‘a lot’ of your time – Dean, I don’t even _recognise_ most of these people.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not dicks,” Dean says, with an air of finality.

Jo looks around the room. It’s hard to tell from the back, but most people do look unfamiliar – although she curls her lip at the bright red hair of Abaddon, the new lead guitar for Demon, Jo’s least favourite metal group – and yep, those leather jackets mean she’s sat between Meg, lead singer, and Ruby, the bassist.

 “What are _they_ doing here?” she asks, but neither of the brothers answer. She didn’t expect them to know – Demon has spent the last decade doing everything they can to screw with Sam and Dean’s band, Hunters. The rivalry has made the magazines more than once – whoever is organising this must have had their head under a rock if they think putting Hunters in the same room as Demon is a good idea.

“Would you lot please _shut_ _up_!”

Jo’s attention is drawn to the stage, where she recognises the same English man from before. He seems to have borrowed the microphone from a short, scruffy-haired guy with a beard, who takes it back when the audience falls quiet.

“Um, hi,” he says. “Thanks for showing up. I’m Chu- _Charles_ Shurley, and I’m here representing the Shurley Charitable Foundation. I guess you’re all probably wondering what this is about.”

“Damn straight,” Dean mutters under his breath.

“Well, we’re putting on a concert!” Charles announces. “But, I guess it’s going to be a little different to what you guys are used to. See, the theme’s ‘ingenuity’ – we want you all to be, uh, creative. So, for the next week, this stage is yours, to rehearse or experiment or collaborate – our stage manager, Mr Crowley, will get you anything you ask for –”

He gestures to the English man, whose pained smile implies that asking is very much discouraged.

“And, I guess we hope to see you all on Saturday night for the performance?”

Mr Shurley grins uncertainly at them, and then looks around for a place to put the microphone, until Crowley takes it off him.

Meanwhile, the audience burst into conversation.

“Well, that’s a new one on me,” Sam says.

“Sounds interesting, though,” Jo adds. “I’ve not got any major gigs this week, so I’m in if you guys are.”

“We’re in,” Dean says.

Sam elbows him in the ribs. “We have to check with Kevin and Garth first. And clear a week off with Bobby.”

“Well, yeah.” Dean elbows him back. “But then we’re coming back here and showing them how it’s done.”

He jumps to his feet and leaps over the row of chairs, striding towards the exit. Sam hurries after him, but Dean only makes it as far as the aisle. That’s when a man hurrying his way past barrels into him and almost sends him flying.

“My apologies,” the stranger says, in a voice that sounds like he gargles limestone. That’s not even the strangest thing about him. His hair looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in weeks, and he’s wearing a full on business suit under a trench coat which must be sweltering in the summer heat of the city.

“It’s fine,” Dean says, brushing himself off. “We’re meant to be getting to know each other better, right? I’m Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam.”

He grins, clearly expecting to be recognised. He isn’t. When he sees the man’s blank look, he tries again: “...Hunters?”

The man frowns. “I was under the impression that everyone here was a musician.”

Dean gapes at him, reduced to silent indignation.

“We are. That’s our band,” Sam explains, helpfully. “What about you?”

The man regards them solemnly.

“My name is Castiel, and I’m with the Angel Symphony Orchestra.”

Then Castiel turns on his heel and walks away.

“See?” Dean says to Sam, far too loudly. “Dicks in suits. This concert _needs_ us.”

Jo watches them leave, contemplating her next move. There’s general chaos as everyone mills around, not sure what they’re supposed to be doing.

Looks like her opportunity to go and explore backstage.

 

Anna’s first thought is to try and find a room she can take over. She had planned to give herself some time off to recover from the last leg of her tour, but this project is too fascinating to pass up. She wants to stick around, and that means finding herself somewhere to work. A cello isn’t the easiest instrument to carry around all day.

As she peers down corridors, she’s not expecting to see anyone, so it takes her by surprise when she comes across a woman who looks just as lost as she does. She’s blonde, and casually dressed, but something about her looks familiar.

“Oh, could you point me the way of th- Wait.” the stranger says. “Anna Milton?”

Anna grins, happy to be recognised. “That’s me.”

The woman’s look of confusion melts into a grin. “Then I guess I don’t have to pretend I’m lost. I’m Jo Harvelle.”

The name isn’t familiar, but Anna is still sure she knows Jo from somewhere.

“I thought you were touring?” Jo asks. “How did it go?”

“I just got back from Europe,” Anna admits. “It was – well, mostly just intense, but there was a brilliant night where I got lost in Amsterdam and wound up performing acoustic at this tiny club called –”

“Het Muurgat?” Jo asks.

“You know it?” Anna blinks, and suddenly she realises where she knows Jo from. “You’re DJ Roadhouse.”

“Yeah,” she says, as though she isn’t a walking legend. “And you’re Anna Milton. I loved your new album, by the way. You do some amazing things with synth.”

“I waited in line for two hours to get into a club you were playing, once,” Anna hears herself say. “It was one of the most inspiring nights of my life.”

Jo grins. “I guess this is our chance to try inspiring each other in person.”

“You want to work together?” Anna almost does a double take. “I should warn you, I’m not a fan of doing things the normal way.”

“Why do you think I asked?” Jo replies, and that’s a smile that Anna can’t say no to.

 

If Jo had any doubts about the wisdom of participating in this unusual performance, they’ve been put to rest. Not only has she met Anna Milton – the freshest sound out there right now, the woman who makes the _electric_ _cello_ look cool – but they’ve agreed to collaborate on a new piece to perform on Saturday. They’re just outlining ideas when Anna jumps out of her seat.

“Castiel!” she calls out of the door. “What’s the news?”

The man from earlier comes to stand in the doorway. When he notices Jo, he shoots her a questioning look.

“Jo Harvelle,” she introduces herself.

“Better known as DJ Roadhouse?” Anna prods, but Castiel shakes his head.

“Sorry. I do not know your work. I am not familiar with most popular music.”

“Yeah, I saw you blank on Hunters earlier,” Jo says. “I think you gave Dean an embolism.”

“That would have been unfortunate,” Castiel says.

“Hunters are here?” Anna asks, distracted. “I didn’t know you knew them.”

Jo grins. “They used to play my mom’s bar when they were first starting out. There’s a track on their first album where I’m singing backing vocals.”

“Are they the group which is signed on with Lucifer?” Castiel asks.

Jo starts, surprised that he cares about labels for groups he hasn’t heard of. “No, that’s Demon – the girls with leather jackets and bad attitudes. Hunters are with Singer Records now – Bobby Singer used to be their drummer.”

“Let me guess – Michael isn’t happy?” Anna sighs. “Only our family could consider a successful music producer to be the black sheep. Still, I suppose it’ll distract him from complaining about my presence.”

“Family?” Jo prompts, lost.

“Castiel is my brother,” Anna explains. “Angel Symphony Orchestra is something of a family business. Michael, our cousin, is the conductor, I used to lead the cello section –”

“And Lucifer, Michael’s brother, was the orchestra leader,” Castiel concludes. “Until he quit to go into something more popular.”

Jo scowls at the thought of him. Morning Star records is known for signing on bands who are so desperate they’ll do anything to make the big time – and then holding them to it. By the time they come out the other end of the process, their music is bland and mass-produced – completely soulless.

“Michael doesn’t want us to be exposed to Lucifer’s protégées any more than we have to,” Castiel continues. “He and Raphael have agreed that we will be performing an excerpt from Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, and we’ll be rehearsing in our own space until dress rehearsals.”

Anna furrows her brow. “A hundred-year-old piece that’s been in the orchestra’s repertoire for over a decade. Does Michael know what ‘ingenuity’ _means_?”

Castiel’s lip twitches. It’s the first sign of emotion Jo has seen from him, so she takes it to be as good as a grin. “Stravinsky’s work was highly controversial for his time.”

“You can’t tell me that’s all he’s letting you do!” Anna protests. “This is a brilliant opportunity. Don’t you want to get involved.”

“The orchestra will not be present for the remainder of the week,” Castiel says deliberately. “And I will be required to spend some of each day in rehearsal.”

Anna beams. “So, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?”

Castiel leaves without saying a word, but Anna seems to take it as a yes.

“Oh, good.” She smiles. “Now, where were we?”

 

The next morning, Jo is helping the guys move equipment – Garth insists on bringing his personalised kit everywhere, even though neither Winchester is a particular fan of ‘Mr. Fizzles’ – when she realises Dean isn’t behind her like he was a second ago.

She turns, and sees Castiel walking past.

“Hey! Cas!” Dean calls.

“Dean.” Castiel greets him with a nod.

“Guess you decided to stick around.” Dean smirks. “This gig cool enough for your orchestra after all?”

“The notion caught my interest,” Castiel says. “And, as Ms Harvelle can tell you, I have a personal interest.”

Dean’s head snaps around. “Jo?”

“If you leave early, you miss the good stuff, Winchester!” she calls down the corridor. “I’m working on something with his sister.”

“His sister?” Dean questions immediately, and Jo grins.

“Anna Milton.”

Dean’s eyebrows go up, and he nods appreciatively. “The cello chick? Awesome. Dude, your sister is hot.”

Jo rolls her eyes. She might agree with the sentiment, but she wasn’t going to mention that in front of Anna’s brother.

Castiel stares at Dean in silence, and Dean’s smile quickly fades to nothing.

The awkward moment is broken by Sam, stumbling up the corridor with a bass drum clutched to his chest. He nearly walks into Castiel before realising he’s there.

“Sorry, man, didn’t see you. Sam Winchester.” He wiggles a hand free, balancing the drum somewhat precariously against the wall, and offers it to Castiel to shake.

Castiel looks at the hand for a second before shaking it.

“Castiel Milton,” he says. “We met yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Sam looks sheepish. “You still looking for people to work with? We’re kind of in the middle of unloading right now...”

“I would be happy to assist you,” Castiel says.

“You would?” Sam smiles. “Kevin’s out in the parking lot, if you tell him I sent you –”

Castiel walks off in the direction Sam came from. Jo is starting to wonder if he’s allergic to ending a conversation normally.

“Thanks, man!” Sam calls after him, and they get moving again.

Dean waits all of two seconds before cuffing Sam on the arm.

“Why do you keep talking to that dick?” he demands.

“Me?” Sam asks. “You’re the one who keeps starting conversations! And besides, I thought we were doing this whole collaboration thing. It’s supposed to be about opening ourselves up to new ideas, Dean.”

“Well, yeah, but not from Mr Symphony Orchestra back there,” Dean says. “He’s not exactly our style.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?” Jo prods.

Dean glares at her. “He doesn’t know the first thing about modern music!”

“You’re just mad he didn’t fall down at your feet the second you introduced yourself,” Sam scoffs. “Not everyone is a screaming fangirl.”

“Don’t be jealous that the fans like me more,” Dean says.

“I’m not jealous of your groupies, Dean,” Sam sighs.

“Liar.”

“Jerk.”

The stumble into the tiny soundproofed room that Hunters have claimed as their workspace, and try their best to form an orderly pile of the drums until Garth can come and set up the kit.

“Jo,” Dean asks suddenly. “Which of us do you think is the most –?”

“You’re both hideous,” Jo says flatly, and Sam laughs.

“I was going to say talented,” Dean protests.

“No you weren’t,” Sam and Jo say at the same time.

“I _might_ have been.” Dean’s trying to sound petulant, but he can’t keep a straight face.

“You never change, do you?” Jo teases. It’s been far too long since they’ve had a chance to hang out together properly, and a part of her misses the days when it was just the three of them hanging out in the middle of nowhere. Then she remembers that she’s got a beautiful, talented cellist waiting to co-write a song with her, and decides that hitting the big time has had its perks.

“I should get going to meet Anna,” she says.

“No chance we’ll get a chance to work with DJ Roadhouse?” Sam asks.

“This week? No way,” Jo says. “When I join forces with you guys, I want an album credit for it.”

“Yeah, I guess we owe you on that one,” Dean admits.

Castiel walks into the room, and balances a snare drum on top of the pile with a perfect poker face.

“What about you?” Dean asks him. “You looking for someone to work with or what?”

“My part in the performance has already been decided,” Castiel says. “But I am interested in observing the creative process of other musicians.”

“You’re welcome to hang out here if you want,” Sam says. “It would be really interesting to talk to someone who – what do you even play?”

“I’m a violinist,” Castiel says. Behind his back, Dean grimaces, and Sam glares at him for a second. Castiel follows his gaze, and turns to look at Dean.

“Yeah, sounds like talking to you would be a real experience,” Dean says.

Castiel watches him as though he is trying to read Dean’s mind, and Dean just stares back.

“Anna may be expecting –”

“I’ll let her know where you are,” Jo reassures him. “See you guys later!”

She looks back as she leaves, and sees Dean and Cas still staring at each other. Sam catches her eye, and gives her a harried look of ‘I think I just signed up to a whole week of this.’

Jo smiles at him, and walks away.

 

Anna invites Cas over to her apartment that evening, to give them a chance to catch up properly.

“I heard you were talking with Hunters this morning. How did that go?” she asks.

“It was illuminating,” Castiel says. “They were kind enough to play for me. In many respects the tonality and harmonisation were familiar, but the arrangement of the parts was entirely alien to me. I wish I could have heard more of their work before I had to leave.”

“I’ve got one of their albums somewhere,” Anna tells him, getting up to rummage through her CD shelf. “I brought it years ago. I can’t believe I have the chance to actually meet them now.”

Castiel snorts.

“Something wrong?” Anna asks.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel frowns. “Most of the band were perfectly accommodating. But Dean Winchester is perfectly disagreeable. He is arrogant, rude, and far too aware of his own good looks.”

Anna stifles a laugh. “He is very good looking. Talented, too. He and his brother write all of the band’s songs, you know.”

“Anna...”

“I understand,” she says. “He’s a rock star and he’s let it go to his head – I can’t say I’m surprised to hear it. Consider me warned.” She hands over the CD. “But you can still appreciate his music, can’t you?”

“A professional admiration is one thing, but pursuing any kind of personal relationship would be unwise.”

“I didn’t –” Anna begins, confused as to where this is coming from, but then a possibility occurs. “Ah.”

“Yes?” Castiel prods.

“Nothing,” she says, trying not to smirk too obviously.

Castiel gazes at her with the kind of forlorn, hurt look only a younger sibling can manage. “Just tell me.”

“Dean is _very_ handsome, isn’t he?” Anna can’t help but tease a little.

Castiel rolls his eyes.

“Yes. I suppose he is.”

 

The next day, things aren’t going quite so well.

“I’m still not happy with the bridge,” Anna grumbles. “It’s missing... intensity.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “The word you’re looking for is ‘contrast.’ If anything, we need to bring it _down_ before the chorus.”

“I’m not talking about volume, I’m talking about emotion,” Anna snaps.

“Well sure!” Jo makes a show of peering at the screen. “That’s funny, I don’t seem to have a slider for that!”

“Um.”

A voice in the doorway makes them both look up. It’s Kevin, who started playing bass in Hunters last year. Jo knows him, but not well enough to have this argument in front of him.

“We’re going to get lunch, do you guys want to come too?”

“Sounds great!” Jo slams her laptop shut before Anna can argue. As it turns out, she doesn’t try to – Anna gets in one last glare, and strides down the corridor faster than Jo can keep up without jogging.

“Aw, come on!” Dean’s saying as she approaches the group. “I’m not eating a bunch of veggie crap.”

“Sushi,” Sam corrects. “Come on, this place is just around the corner...”

“So is the best burger joint in the city,” Dean argues.

“Still a vegan,” Kevin points out.

“We could split up,” Garth suggests, reasonably. “That way everyone’s happy.”

That’s how Jo winds up in the best burger place in town, sat opposite from Dean and Castiel.

“You should have been there,” Dean says through a mouthful of meat. “Cas and Sam spent a straight hour fangirling over a bunch of dead dudes. It was all Prokofiev this and Saint-Saëns that –”

“I’ve been trying to acquaint Dean with Pachelbel’s Canon,” Castiel informs her, and she smirks.

“Mastered the bassline yet?” she teases. “It’s only been used a thousand times.”

Dean laughs and shrugs it off. “Hey, you don’t screw with the classics.”

“I doubt that your rendition is precisely what Pachelbel had in mind,” Castiel says.

“That, Cas, is what we call a remix,” Dean says. “You’ve got to put your own spin on things.”

“You do always seem to,” Cas replies, with a significant look at Dean.

Dean catches that look and holds it, and Jo counts at least five seconds before taking a noisy slurp of her drink and watching them start as they remember that she’s still there.

 “Yeah, well,” Dean says to no-one in particular. “I guess this classical stuff is kind of cool, but we got on fine for years without all these ‘ostinatos’ and ‘glissandos.’”

“Really?” Castiel asks. “Because I thought you used glissandos to great effect in the instrumental section of ‘Salt and Burn.’”

Dean blinks.

“I believe you would refer to them as a ‘slide.’” Castiel explains.

A slow grin spreads across Dean’s face.

“When did you listen to ‘Salt and Burn’?” he asks. “I thought you didn’t know any of our stuff.”

“Since I am spending a great deal of time with you I felt that it was prudent to do some research,” Castiel says, but he seems to have developed a newfound interest in staring out of the window, away from Dean.

“I guess there were some pretty rocking slides in that solo,” Dean admits. “Or glissandos or whatever.”

“Dean,” Castiel says, turning to face him again. “A great deal of the study of music consists of putting names to the obvious. Music can be based entirely on gut instinct – it takes no expertise to have an opinion about a song. The purpose of music theory is to try to understand the component parts of the sound, in the same way a mechanic might look at an engine, in the hopes of improving upon the performance.”

Dean nods, clearly lost in thought for a moment. He isn’t the only one. Jo thinks it over – her gut instinct for this piece. She’s been letting the parts get in her way too much, it’s time to look at the bigger picture.

Dean’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts: “What about you? Do you ever put down the textbook and get your hands dirty?”

Castiel doesn’t answer.

“When do we get to hear you play?” Dean translates. “And don’t say on Saturday. I don’t want to be trying to pick you out of an orchestra.”

Castiel looks faintly surprised. “My repertoire does have a few solo pieces. I could bring my violin to the concert hall tomorrow.”

“That, I’ve got to see,” Jo says. “Hey, I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”

She walks around the corner, pulls out her phone, and starts texting: “What if we take out the second track altogether at the bridge? Less sound, more room for you to make an impression.”

A few seconds later, she gets a response from Anna: “That might work. We can try it once we get back.”

Jo’s about to head back to the booth when she hears raised voices.

“Dammit, Cas, it’s not the same. I don’t want to hear you play something note perfect – I want to hear _you_.”

“Originality is not the only value to music,” Castiel argues. “You should learn to appreciate your history.”

“Don’t you ever want to just play?” Dean demands. “I swear, you’re like some kind of ro–”

“I’m not a robot, Dean,” Castiel says, in a voice that makes Jo’s breath catch in her throat. “I have creative impulses, but... Music means everything to me. I could not live my life without it.”

“What does that have to -?”

Jo hears footsteps, and the bell over the door rings. Someone curses. She gives it a few seconds before turning the corner.

“Hey!” she says to Dean. “Where did Cas go?”

“He had a rehearsal to get to,” he lies.

Jo decides it isn’t her place to say otherwise.

 

On their way back from lunch, Dean pulls Anna to one side.

“Hey,” he asks, and from the concern on his face Anna can’t help but listen. “So what’s the deal with this orchestra?”

Anna frowns, not sure what he means. “I quit the orchestra years ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says. “I meant – why did you leave?”

“I took a risk on having a solo career.” Anna shrugs. “I wanted to compose for myself. Music is – it’s emotion, it’s hope, and heartbreak. Joy. _Sex_. I got tired of only feeling what I was told to. I wanted to live it for myself.”

Dean hesitates for a second, but there’s a smile on his face. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean. But, I actually meant why did you have to? Don’t they let you guys play your own stuff?”

Anna laughs, if only to cover her own embarrassment at her misunderstanding. Given the topic, it comes out a little bitter.

“Not in so many words,” she says. “Michael doesn’t approve of anyone having other projects – he thinks it’s a distraction which damages their performance. The orchestra are... strongly discouraged from composing. If you don’t take the hint, your contract doesn’t get renewed. That, or you leave before they have the chance to fire you.”

 Anna restrains herself from grumbling any more – she isn’t really bitter, just irritated by Michael’s controlling behaviour, and the knowledge Castiel is still bound up in that environment – but her fears of boring Dean seem to be unfounded. He’s looking right through her, and something in his expression seems set.

“Right, thanks,” he says, and the conversation is over.

Anna tries to work out what he was really asking for, and what answer he thinks she gave him. What could Dean Winchester want to know about –

“Oh!” she mouths to herself, as she finally understands. Oh.

Good for you, Castiel.

 

By Thursday afternoon, the piece is coming along nicely. Nice enough that Jo decides to go and run a feasibility check for their planned set-up past the tech crew. But when she reaches the control box, someone’s already there.

“Come on,” Dean is saying to a red-haired girl in a shirt that reads ‘Also I can kill you with my brain.’ “I mean, they’re tight, but do you really think Spock is ever going to loosen up enough to admit what Kirk really means to him?”

“Please!” she answers. “Have you seen all the touching they do? In Vulcan terms, they’re practically married. You might as well ask if Kirk would ever get over his ego long enough to see how important Spock is – they can, and they have. So make with the make outs!”

Dean laughs, and Jo knocks on the open door.

“Oh!” The girl perks up. “Hey, didn’t see you there. What can I do for you?”

Dean looks around. “Jo! Meet Charlie. Apparently, she’s the queen of audio engineering.”

“You two know each other?” Charlie grins. “You a fan too?”

“Star Trek?” Jo asks. “I’ve seen Deep Space Nine...”

Dean shudders, but Charlie nods appreciatively. “Anything is better than nothing. And hey, Kira Nerys!”

“She was pretty awesome.” Jo nods, but she doesn’t remember much beyond that. “Anyway, I just wanted to check what adaptors you guys have lying around.” She holds up a list she and Anna have drawn up.

“Sure thing.” Charlie starts reading.

“So, are you here just for the nerd cred?” Jo asks Dean.

“No!” he insists, a little too loudly. “I had to make sure the amps were set up right for my baby.”

Dean’s played the same guitar as long as she’s known him – an admittedly beautiful black ’69 Impala that everyone now knows as ‘baby.’ If he could, Jo suspects he would marry it.

“You really think that’s any better?” Jo asks.

“Shut up,” Dean replies, eloquently.

“Hmm,” Charlie says, and it doesn’t sound like a good hmm. “So you’re trying to patch in the directional mike direct to the sliders?”

“You are?” Dean asks.

“Yeah,” Jo says. “Anna plays, I mix.”

It’s a little nerve-wracking, the thought of DJing with a live stream. If things don’t go as they rehearsed – and they never do – she’ll have to think on her feet to hold the whole piece together.

“Our directional mike is a little temperamental,” Charlie explains. “We don’t have all of these, but I should be able to wire something up for you...”

“I could just go ask Crowley for a new cable,” Jo suggests, and Charlie looks panicked.

“No way,” she insists.

“Tough boss?” Dean asks.

“He told me if I brought him any more problems, he’d feed me to his dogs.” Her voice is so deadpan it’s hard to tell if she’s being serious. “Apparently, at Elysium Concert Hall, we do _solutions_.”

Jo winces in sympathy.

“He’s not a people person,” Charlie admits. “Still, my last boss was way worse. That guy was a total dick.”

“Hey,” Anna says at the door. “Everything okay?”

“Got it under control,” Charlie tells her.

“We got talking,” Jo explains. “This is Charlie. Charlie, Anna.”

“Nice to meet you,” Anna says, but Charlie looks distracted.

“Hey, Dean,” she says. “You know that guy Cas you were telling me about. He a violinist? Black hair, trenchcoat... pretty dreamy...”

“Sounds about right. Why?”

“Because he’s down there.” She gestures out the window overlooking the stage. Dean takes one look, and then he’s gone.

Jo rolls her eyes, and then shoots a significant look at whoever is standing closest. It happens to be Anna, and she’s surprised to realise that Anna is sending one right back.

“Wait,” she says. “Cas too?”

“You mean Dean –”

“Well, yeah –”

“Ladies,” Charlie interrupts. “Very obviously, _both_ of them.”

There’s a moment of contemplative silence.

“I should start a betting pool,” Jo declares.

“You really think anyone will bet against?” Charlie asks.

“I didn’t mean ‘if.’ I meant ‘ _when_.’”

 

Anna and Jo head downstairs to greet Castiel themselves, and discover that for the first time, he has brought his violin with him.

He gets it out in Hunters practise room. It’s a strange sight. Anna is used to childhood recitals by the piano, or picking out a head of messy black hair among a forest of bows, but in here there’s barely enough room for them to close the door. Cas is crammed into a narrow strip of space next to the drum kit, while the rest of them lean on walls or perch on top of amps.

“I have a range of pieces with me, if you’re interested,” he says. “But, since we have an audience...” He catches Anna’s eye. “I was wondering if you all might be willing to accompany me? I have a piece which fits the harmonic structures you have been experimenting with.”

The band struggle to get into place. Fitting all of them with their instruments pushes Anna and Jo out into the corridor, but Anna is curious to hear what Castiel has in mind.

They start playing.

Castiel has chosen a piece Anna has heard before – a Baroque dance. She wouldn’t have thought it would work with a rock band as accompaniment, but it does, and she’s amazed by his insight. There’s an edge to the sound she hasn’t heard him play with in a long time.

Then they reach what, in any other rock song, would be a guitar solo. The accompaniment drops down to next to nothing, and Castiel takes centre stage, his bow flying over the strings in an intricate flurry of sound. His playing is breathtaking.

It’s from no Baroque dance Anna has ever heard.

The song ends on one final chord, and for a moment everything is still.

Jo cheers.

As soon as the silence is broken, there’s a hubbub of applause and congratulations. Dean is patting Castiel on the back, and Sam is saying: “You have to perform that with us, man, you’ve _got_ to.”

In the midst of it all, Castiel catches his sister’s eye for a moment. She smiles at him, hoping that he understands everything she doesn’t have a chance to tell him.

She thinks he does, because a moment later he’s saying: “I would love to perform with you on Saturday.”

It’s funny how, even though it was Sam who asked, Castiel’s eyes are fixed firmly on Dean.

 

The next day, Anna spends most of the morning in the tech box, helping Jo fine-tune the ingenious arrangement Charlie has rigged up for them overnight.

“Have you checked the feedback settings?” she asks.

“Yep!” Jo responds with a smile. “And the balance too, before you ask.”

Anna can’t help but laugh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

She’s distracted by the sound of raised voices on the stage below. Someone is having an argument.

“Who’s making all that noise?” Jo asks from where she’s crouched over the control box. Anna peers out the window.

“I don’t know. Who has a drum kit with a sock puppet on it?”

Jo’s head snaps up. “That’s Garth’s.”

She’s on her feet and clattering down the stairs in seconds, and Anna rushes after her and through towards the stage wings. Jo rushes to stand beside Hunters and Castiel, but Anna hangs back, assessing the situation from the shadows.

“We booked the stage,” Dean is saying, loudly. “It’s our time to rehearse.”

“We say differently.” Anna recognises the woman who answers as Ruby, one of the women from Demon. The entire band is here – Meg, Abaddon, and even the latest of their ever-changing drummers, although Anna can’t recall this one’s name. When she takes in the scene, Anna realises that Meg has pulled one of the speaker cables, cutting the rehearsal short.

“Back off, Ruby,” Sam snaps, with uncharacteristic vehemence. A few years back, there was a rumour that he and Ruby were dating. Anna hadn’t paid any credence to it before, but she’s reconsidering the theory. She can’t imagine what else Ruby could have done to provoke Sam, who’s been nothing but welcoming to Anna, into giving her a look of murderous rage.

“You heard him,” Jo adds. “Get gone.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, sweetheart,” Abaddon says with a falsely bright smile. “But we need to practise too. So it’s our turn.”

The drummer, unnoticed by the others, slips off towards the side of the stage where Anna is standing. She tracks his path curiously, wondering why – and then sees Castiel’s violin, left unattended while the group set up. Before the man can reach it, she steps in front of him, blocking his path.

She shakes her head, and after one look, he decides to walk away.

“It’s time for you to get gone.” Meg says.

Castiel steps forwards from the group. “You are not taking this stage.”

Meg laughs. “Oh, you can stay, handsome. I heard you down the corridor yesterday. I do love a man who can make some noise.”

“Back off, bi–”

“What is the meaning of all this _ruckus_?”

Dean’s insult is cut off by the arrival of Crowley at the back of the hall. He strides forward with a look of utter contempt for all of them.

“This hall is for music,” he tells them. “What I am hearing right now is not musical. It’s bloody annoying!”

“These – ladies,” Garth begins explaining. “Are claiming we double booked the stage. But it’s ours, fair and square.”

“And suddenly it’s my job to fix it?” Crowley demands. Everyone carefully fails to point out that it is, in fact, his job. “Can’t you idiots do anything without supervision?”

He considers them all. “Let’s see, the amazing country yokels or... Lucifer’s squalling brats.” His lip curls. “Shouldn’t you girls be busy torturing puppies or something?”

“Call it our day off,” Abaddon snaps back.

“Get out of here!” Crowley tells them. “And as for the rest of you – got a new member, boys?”

“I believe I can account for that.” Raphael steps out of the opposite wing of the stage, and Anna wonders how long he has been stood there eavesdropping. “I came to see what all the fuss was about, but I see one of our violinists has found himself in the middle of it. Come along, Castiel. You should be tuning up backstage.”

Castiel turns to Dean with a helpless look. “Dean, I –”

“Come _along_ , Castiel.”

He turns away without another word. Anna hands him his violin. For a moment, Raphael catches her eye, and the look of hatred he gives her is almost as vehement as the one she gives him in return. Then Raphael walks away, with Castiel following at his heels.

“Well then?” Crowley prompts. “Play something, or get off of my stage!”

Sam and Dean exchange a long look.

“Right,” Sam says. “Let’s take it from the top.”

 

On Saturday, about an hour before the concert starts, Jo heads over to the band’s dressing room to wish them luck.

She doesn’t bother asking about Castiel. No-one has heard from him since his big ‘exit stage left’ yesterday. If that had changed, she would know – and Dean would have stopped looking as though he wants to break something.

She’s been there about five minutes when there’s a knock at the door. Sam goes to answer.

“Oh my gosh!” There’s a short blonde woman on the other side, who smiles so wide that Jo’s cheeks hurt to look at her. “Sam Winchester!”

She lays a hand on his chest, and Sam stares at it in horror.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me...” he answers. “And you are?”

“Oh!” She giggles. “I’m Becky. I’m your biggest fan! I’ve read so much fanfiction about you and...”

She trails off, but her eyes wonder tellingly to Dean. Jo gags at the thought.

“Becky?” A familiar voice calls in the corridor. “Where did you – oh.”

Charles Shurley appears in the doorway, and puts his arm around Becky’s waist. She quickly snatches her hand off of Sam’s pectorals.

“Oh,” she says. “Hi Chuck.”

“Hope you guys are as excited as we are!” Chuck tells them, apparently oblivious to her disappointment.

“This week has definitely been an experience,” Kevin remarks.

“It was my idea to invite you guys,” Becky says quickly.

“I hope you all enjoyed yourselves?” Chuck asks.

Suddenly, Dean jumps to his feet and pushes past the couple, storming down the corridor.

“Something I said?”

“He gets – nervous, before going onstage,” Sam says, weakly.

“Performance anxiety,” Jo says, with a perfectly straight face.

“I bet you never have that problem, right Sam?” Becky asks.

“Well...” Chuck says, a little louder than is necessary. “We should get going. Nice to meet you all!”

“Thanks for a great week!” Garth says, and Jo nods.

“Bye!”

Chuck pulls Becky after him, but she turns and blows Sam one last kiss before the door closes.

Everyone waits a few seconds for them to walk away before erupting into fits of laughter.

“Man,” Kevin says. “Why do you have all the weird fans?”

“I don’t know, dude,” Garth says “I thought she was kind of cute.”

“In a stalkery kind of way,” Jo agrees.

“How is this my life?” Sam asks the universe at large, and they all start laughing again.

“You’d better get used to it!” Jo tells him. “Anyway, I gotta get back. Break a leg guys!”

Sam wraps her up in a rib-crushing hug.

“You and Anna are going to be great,” he mutters in her ear.

“Hope things work out with Cas,” she says back.

“So do I.”

She steps back, and waves to the others, trying to shake her nagging fears about tonight’s performance.

She’s about halfway back to the room she and Anna are sharing when she hears a scream just behind her. She sticks her head around a corner to see –

“A stinkbomb!” Abaddon shrieks. “Who is responsible for this? Was this your fault?”

Demon round on their new drummer, and Jo quickly ducks out of sight before she becomes a more obvious scapegoat. She hopes Dean didn’t do anything rash...

At the other end of the corridor, a short blonde man in a janitor’s uniform winks at her, and smirks as he walks out of sight.

She grins. Nope, someone else’s payback. She isn’t surprised. If anyone has bad karma, it’s those three.

Maybe there is justice in the universe after all.

She just hopes there’s some for Dean.

 

Anna always gets restless before going onstage. She’s been pacing the corridors for the past ten minutes. She knows every inch of the backstage labyrinth by now, but she is surprised to hear a familiar voice up ahead.

“Cas, listen I –”

Dean sounds more emotional than she’s ever heard him, and she stumbles to a halt.

“I get why you left, I do. I even get why you won’t pick up the phone.”

Anna swallows, hard, but she can’t bring herself to move.

“But I’m asking you – If you come back –”

 Dean breaks off for a moment.

“Cas, we need you up there. We are better with you, you gotta know that. Just... come find me.”

There’s a beep from the phone, and then a loud clattering noise, as though something was thrown against the wall.

The sound breaks Anna out of her shocked daze. She pulls herself together, and finally hurries away.

 

The two of them are performing right after Hunters finish, and so Jo is waiting in the wings with Anna as the guys are preparing to go on.

Which means they’re both there when Castiel arrives, and strides directly towards Dean.

“Cas!” Dean smiles at the sight of him, but after a moment he visibly deflates. “Come to wish us luck?” he asks, bitterly.

“I’ve come to see if it’s too late,” Cas says. “I want to perform with you tonight.”

Dean stares at him, and says, barely on the edge of hearing: “You sure, man? I know what it means if you play.”

“I have never been more sure about anything,” Castiel tells him. “I want to play with you.” He glances at the rest of the band. “If you’ll let me.”

“Of course!”

“Sure.”

“We wouldn’t we?”

Cas meets Dean’s eye with a look like he’s about to march into battle.

“Dean,” he says. “I understand if you aren’t willing –”

“What?” Dean cuts him off. “Of course I want you in my corner.”

Cas’s mouth curves upwards slightly. “We haven’t rehearsed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean declares. He and Castiel are almost nose to nose, and Jo holds her breath –

The audience erupts into applause, and the last act files off, and the stagehands are telling everyone to “Go!”

“Good to have you onside,” Dean mutters as they get moving.

Castiel says something back, but it’s too distant for Jo to hear what.

From the way Dean smiles, she thinks she might know anyway.

 

Hunters are awesome. Castiel is awesome. Jo is awesome. In fact, the whole performance is mind-blowing.

They walk offstage laughing from exhilaration.

“I can’t believe we got through that in one piece!” Anna remarks.

“One piece?” Jo laughs. “Don’t underestimate us. We kicked ass!”

Jo throws her arm around Anna’s shoulders, and for a moment Anna almost kisses her. But then she remembers that her crush is still just that: unrequited, as far as she has reason to believe.

She pulls away a little. “Come on. We should go find the boys and congratulate them.”

They decide to try the practise room first, since it’s closer to the stage. They can’t hear anything from outside, but Jo insists on opening the door anyway to find –

Dean and Castiel. Or, more specifically, Castiel on top of Dean, sprawled in his lap with his tie half undone and his hair even more ruffled than usual, while Dean has a flushed face and a hickey darkening on the side of his neck.

Anna isn’t sure whether to congratulate them or cover her eyes. She’s happy for them, but that is her little brother.

Castiel sees Dean staring at them and turns without moving position.

“Hello, Anna,” he says. “Ms Harvelle.”

“You can call me Jo,” Jo says, reflexively. “It’s about time!”

“Yes, I rather agree,” Castiel says. “So I’m afraid you two will have to find somewhere else.”

It takes Anna a second to catch onto his meaning. Then –

“We aren’t –”

“We were just –”

“We wouldn’t –”

“I mean –”

“Would you?”

Jo blinks at her. “Would I what?”

“Would you want to?” Anna clarifies. “If I was offering.”

“I, uh –” Jo shrugs. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Oh.” Anna frowns. “Then maybe we should.”

Dean, who they had both momentarily forgotten about, laughs. They turn at the same time to see that he’s buried his face in Castiel’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, when he catches his breath. “It’s about _time_.”

“Oh, shut up!” Jo tells him, slamming the door. “Come on. Our dressing room – I mean, if you really –”

Anna leans forwards and kisses her, quickly. It’s little more than a peck on the lips, but Jo blushes, and stops talking.

They practically sprint the whole way back. It’s exhilarating. They only met one short week ago, and now Anna is – they’re going to –

Jo slams the door after them, and presses their lips together again.

Oh. Yes.

They only break apart when they’re both short of breath, panting into each others’ mouths before Anna is pushing back into Jo’s space, eager for more.

“You know –” Jo gasps between kisses. “If we’re doing this – I should warn you – I don’t – really do – _normal_.”

Anna smiles, and pulls back for a moment so that she can lean her forehead against Jo’s.

“Oh,” she says. “Thank goodness for that.”


End file.
